The Mission
by CramerGirl
Summary: An unconventional mission for both Jedi and Assassin/Sith Apprentice. A little fun for the Tumblr Ventrobi Week.


Normally, Ventress disliked space travel. For one, it was too dark, isolating and quiet save for the rhythmic whir of the ventilation system. And it was cold. She shivered and leaned forward in the nav chair scanning the ship's consul for the environment control system. After increasing ambient thermal regulators and checking the ship's systems, an important routine of space travel, she settled back into her seat groove and, cat like, stretched her long legs to rest them on the consul and glowered at the blue and white hypnotic swirl of hyperspace from the transpirasteel nav window.

And the majority of space travel was long. She sighed dramatically and impatiently, crossing her arms over her midriff, bared in this particular outfit, and frowning. This trip alone would take 48 hours in hyperspace to rendezvous with her Master and report on the success of her mission. It was not uncommon for her to spend days in hyperspace travelling millions of miles out of the way to avoid detection from Republic cruisers and worse, the Jedi, whose spies were everywhere. Her lips instinctively snarled at this thought.

Others, like her Master, enjoyed the solitude and peace of space travel. It gave them time to think without distraction and reflect, to meditate and rest. For many this was a small luxury, but for her it was akin to torture for the stillness and quiet only made her retreat inward to those painful memories of loss, regret, shame and self-doubt. Only by keeping active, physically and mentally, was she able to keep the past and those traitorous memories selfishly guarded and at bay. For her, space travel was an extended battle with a mutinous, relentless enemy…herself.

But her life was not without little moments of happiness and peace, which she used occasionally to calm herself or prevent night terrors. With little else to keep her attention during this extended trip, though she tried to suppress them, memories from her mission flashed in her mind: a gasp, her hand running through his hair, his callused hands firmly grasping the small of her bare back, the taste of his lips….

She shouldn't think about that…about _him_. She should stay focused on the objective.

 _Remember he's your enemy; your mission. A thing. A tool. A key piece in this grand plan._ Ventress caught herself reciting this mantra with increasing frequency, especially around him. In the beginning it worked, but now? Now…His piercing blue eyes and the way his beard tickled her neck when he pressed lips against her earlobe….

She sighed as a small smile slowly spread across her lips. Closing her eyes and tracing them with a finger, still swollen from their zealous kissing, Ventress nestled into the chair. Well, maybe she could indulge just this once.

 _What a curious mission._

Her affair with Obi Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master and General began on purpose, with intent. Well, sort of. Actually, the initial mission, dictated by her Dark Master, was to test the close bond between the powerful Jedi Master and his former apprentice and find and exploit weaknesses, if any, between the perfect pair. The Dark wanted Skywalker and pulling strings behind the scenes to drive them apart was the answer, as neither Ventress nor her Master could best them fighting. They were too strong and, together, nearly unstoppable.

Initially, she focused on Skywalker to irritate, goad and tempt his wrath, always simmering under the surface of practiced Jedi calm. Seducing his dark thoughts and actions seemed to work – and nearly did on Jabiim when she captured and tortured Kenobi, knowing Skywalker would go blind with rage trying to locate and then rescue his Master.

Ventress' brows furrowed at the memory.

Jabiim was the turning point. Something unanticipated happened between herself and Kenobi, something almost intimate between their Force signatures. Kenobi was like a beacon of warmth, security and light. Despite her efforts, including that hideous Sith mask, his signature never wavered. It confused her, for she nearly tortured him to death, then slowly changed from curiosity to (dare she admit it?) attraction. It was all in the intensity of his piercing blue eyes. The way they read her, challenged her… _forgave_ her. In her chambers at night, she fantasized about those eyes betraying passion and desire as they looked upon her. To quell her growing feelings she intensified the torture and contained him in isolation willing him to perish from neglect, to let her feelings rot away with him. She was dark, he was light; it could never be. Then he escaped (not that a tiny part of her delighted in his escape) and everything, including the mission, changed.

After Jabiim, Kenobi began to seek her, not necessarily for retribution, by irritatingly popping up and foiling her dark missions. Her Dark Master took notice of Kenobi's borderline obsession and refocused the great plan from corrupting Skywalker to seducing Kenobi. After all, what better way to tear apart trust and friendship than with a woman despised by one and misunderstood by another?

His meddling secretly rekindled the tendrils of curiosity sparked on Jabiim…and maybe, just maybe, she allowed a glimmer of hope and the desire to be free from her Master and the Dark to slip past her mental shields, knowing he could not resist a pet project like that.

 _Ooopsy! After all, I am unforgettable._ She purred to herself, delighting in her cleverness. The Jedi and their precious, repressed code would never allow seduction as a means of persuasion or negotiation, anyway.

 _They miss out on sooo much_ , she thought. _A little playtime might do them good._ And HAD! She cackled to herself remembering a moment, not too long ago, when she made Kenobi scream her name by flicking her tongue over a very intimate spot.

Kenobi's obsession with turning Ventress to the light would fuel the temptation, and she specialized in seduction. Ventress giggled and raked long fingernails teasingly across her stomach, savoring in the memory of the next time they met and fought electrically.

It was easier than she thought, especially with such a notorious flirt. Before long, their duels morphed from strictly clashing 'sabers to glib wit until that one delicious, glorious fight. They were in a warehouse on Christophsis (for the zillionth time, stars that planet was difficult to hold on to and changed hands so many times during this war) fighting and flirting like maniacs when he caught her off-guard with a Force push, threw her lightsabers out of reach somewhere in the vast space, and forcefully pinned her against a wall with his forearms and a snarling smirk. She could feel his breath on her face and smell his scent, sweat mixed with something earthy and herbal. Their Force signatures sizzled with adrenaline, chests heaving from exertion. He had her.

For a brief moment, panic welled in her chest before a brash impulse solidified a decision as he bored into her with his eyes. She could almost see arcs of electricity pass between them. It was the closest they'd been since Jabiim – without Skywalker's irritating disruptions –and maybe her only opportunity. She met his stare, smiled smugly, and purposely broadcasted the licentious feelings she tried to forget. It worked. His eyes widened, not expecting the intensity of desire, and released her. Taking full advantage of his surprise, she closed the space between them and firmly pressed her lips against his, eyes open, challenging.

He broke first, "I…." But she stopped him with another kiss and, keeping the hand holding his now-extinguished light saber in her peripheral, placed her hand lightly on his chest over his heart. This time he kissed back, eyes wide accepting her challenge, and pushed her against the wall he previously held her against. In retaliation, she bit his lip. His eyes flared, grabbed her wrist of the hand on his chest and slammed it against the wall, which hurt and she liked it (arguably pain and pleasure are blurry lines).

She laughed, but he silenced her with a searing kiss that nearly made her forget about the mission, as he pressed himself against her. Her free hand slithered into his hair and grabbed a fist full. He shoved his tongue into her mouth. She met his with equal force; a different type of duel. They broke apart, chests heaving for different reasons this time, eyes locked carefully and cautiously trying to read the other. He released her, slowly backed away and, before disappearing into the darkness of the vast building, sent her a single image of him on Jabiim under her power nearly naked and chained to a wall.

She blinked twice, rested her head against the wall, and slowly, shakily exhaled. He liked it. _Oh…the things she could do_ …though she would never admit to wanting more. Her Dark Master was pleased after that report.

It devolved after that into a series of liaisons; he caught her in a dark, scummy cantina of a backwater world, pulled her into a back room where they fucked each other senseless on some kind of game table. The time after that, it was on the deck in the hanger bay of her separatist battle ship amongst severed, singed droid parts after he sliced through a squad of her best battle droids. Time after time after time, until they were intentionally sending the other coordinates for their illicit and aggressive rendezvous.

She had worse missions. Ventress bit her lip and caressed his bite mark on her left shoulder from their last encounter.

 _And it's still in motion_. A sly smile.

She glanced at the console and stretched. There were hours left on the chrono before meeting her Master. She could afford a little rest. 'Dueling' with Kenobi was athletically taxing. She hugged her stomach and enjoyed the last 'mission' memory, closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep musing that, perhaps, space travel wasn't so terrible.

Back aboard the Jedi cruiser in his private quarters, General Obi Wan Kenobi yawned and gingerly spread bacta over deep nail scratches left on his chest when Ventress rode him until she yelled his name mixed with swear words in her native tongue. He hoped she would enjoy nursing the bruising bite left on her shoulder when he joined her in climax (that was, dare he think it… _fun_ ). He allowed, just this once, his male ego to revel in giving that parting gift. Sighing in pleasant reflection, he returned to typing his report for the council.

… _Intercepted subject at planned rendezvous site on Felucia and continued with aggressive negotiations by any means necessary, as previously suggested by Council. Subject is beginning to turn and confessed that she has only reported a few of our increasing number of intimacies to her Master, which I surmise that he suspects her duplicity. She also tries to conceal growing feelings for me, which her Master must also sense. My recommendation is to continue with the mission, as our meetings are creating a strain on their Master/Apprentice bond. Once broken, their separation will damage Separatist strategy and we can focus our full attention on destroying Grievous. I await your decision. Kenobi out._

Satisfied, Obi Wan encrypted the report, hit 'send', smiled and climbed into his bunk. Briefly, he thought about Anakin and what he would think about the whole endeavor, deciding that his former apprentice would delight in his uptight (Anakin's words) Master bending the code. The 'sessions' with Ventress often left Obi Wan in a forgiving mood, anyway.

He had worse missions. Might as well enjoy this one as long as he could.


End file.
